ALTERNATE: Evil Empire

[Trillian]

(For EO)

HE WAS KNOWN AS ANCIENT, though Ben despised the term.  After over a thousand years of existence, there was little tolerance left in him.  Very few could hold his attention.  He\'d decided there were four types of mortals in the world, and most of them fit into one category; the hopeful.  There were also the tortured and the predictable.  Out of the four, the last and rarest still caught his attention; the true.  He was beginning to tire of them as well, which caused him concern.  They were beginning to feel as bland and ingenuine as the others.  If the true ever finally felt insincere to him, he knew it would be time to end his intimacy with mortals.  He didn\'t want to do that - to condemn himself to his species alone.  He didn\'t think he would last very long among them.  He would lose his sanity.  Before that happened, he hoped he would face his final end.

It was a time for gentlemen; the turn of the century was coming up, and then the 19th century would be no more.  They would all be living in the 20th century.  Even now, after he\'d seen more than a hundred turns of centuries pass, the event still held a kind of wonder for him.  It hadn\'t been as big as the taking up of the new calendar, which some Ancients far older than him had witnessed, but he thought fondly of the event, for after so many years, the turn of the century was beginning to feel more like a marker of his existence than the date of his actual birthday or the night he\'d been sired by Lazarus.

Ah, Lazarus, the blonde Ancient was certainly aptly named, for he always managed to resurrect himself into Ben\'s life every now and then.  They were on speaking terms again; no longer circling each other and spitting like tomcats over territory.  It had been a good place to leave it, the last time they\'d parted, with a distinctly selfish and obligatory fuck.  Lazarus had preened under Ben\'s attentions before he\'d told the other blonde he was leaving Russia.  Lazarus had made some droll remark and then Ben had left his hotel room.  That had been, what, some forty something years ago?  Not too long, then.

He\'d gone west after that, moving through Europe until he crossed the channel into England, then travelling to Ireland after that.  It had taken him many years just to move through the countries, for he\'d remained in order to reacquaint himself with the more modern variants of the languages that had developed since the last time he\'d visited the countries.  All language seemed to be simplifying somehow, but also investing in their own dialects.  It was fun to learn, and one of the few pleasures afforded him.

Once arriving in Ireland, he began looking for a community in which to make his home.  It had to be large enough to supply him with the luxuries he was used to, though small enough to favour him with the kind of isolation he was looking for.  He didn\'t mind company in small numbers, but the great cities he\'d left behind made him feel lonelier and hollow.  Too many people doing the same thing, talking about the same topics and running around the same way sapped his hope for something unique.  He felt he could find a more honest being in the country, and so it was in the country he looked.

A problem made itself known to him in a particular community that was already hosting a creature of his species, though unbeknownst to them.  While moving on horseback through a medium sized township, he\'d been warned to stay the remainder of the night at the local inn by the night watchmen, who\'d told him animals were being slaughtered in strange ways.  Dressed as he was, they\'d believed him to be a passing merchant or young lord, and likely didn\'t want trouble falling on their community should someone of his importance be missed should he run into trouble.

At first Ben had believed the creature to be a werewolf, but as his steed galloped further out of town and towards the farmland - and it was his intention to investigate the large castle-like manor overseeing the township atop a great hill - he sensed another of his kind nearby.  The feeling was eerie, for the other wasn\'t so young, yet didn\'t seem to have mental refinement.  Waves of thought, sinister and resentful, washed over Ben\'s mind and he steadied his horse in order to sit still upon it and deem where the other was hiding.

Perhaps he shouldn\'t have assumed so much, for the other vampire was much closer than he\'d first suspected.  Enough to frighten his horse as he approached with a speed that matched Ben\'s own.  While the steed prepared to start, intending on rearing up, Ben was already off the saddle and meeting his violent nemesis.  He was old, yes, not quite as old as Ben but ancient enough to cause him a great deal of trouble throughout their battle.  Fighting like animals, without weapons other than their fangs and clawed hands, it was only after Ben and the other vampire took their fight into the trees that Ben used a sharp, fallen branch to pin his attacker against a trunk.  During his side of the battle, he\'d shouted many questions; "Why? What do you have against me?" and made many comments; "I have no quarrel with you! I do not mean to stay if you do not wish it!" and received no response.  He\'d known the other meant to slay him.  Such intent was unforgivable, and so, while the other growled and made barbaric threats at him, Ben ripped at his neck with his teeth until it was severed enough to twist off with his hands.

The gory sight before him was little reward.  He hadn\'t drunk blood in many weeks, for he didn\'t need it so much anymore, but the lust had taken over when he\'d drawn it from his ancient enemy.  It wasn\'t the first time he\'d bled a vampire, though he normally didn\'t care to drink from his own species.  This time, however, the other ancient\'s blood seemed to invigorate him, enough that he took the time to carve a shallow grave out of the ground with his hands, and to deposit the decapitated body into it.  He didn\'t bother to cover it up, however, for the sun would take care of that, but returning to his horse - which had trotted only a short distance away from the quarrelling vampires - he still held the head by the hair, intending on having it meet the sun separately.

There was only a couple of hours of darkness left before sunrise, and covered in blood as he was (even though his wounds had already healed), with his clothes stinking of the metallic, dried liquid, he knew he would not be well met at the township.  He continued on his path towards the manor, figuring he could sneak into the building without its occupants finding out should there be any.  He doubted it; from the look of the building it had seemed abandoned.

Once he reached the giant doors, he could smell the lingering scent of the other vampire\'s territory.  He was now invading his enemy\'s home.  Fitting, that the head should see its castle once more.  He dropped the thing onto the front step, not expecting anyone to be here in the dead of night.  Allowing his horse to roam free, he removed the saddle and bridle, keeping the blankets on for the night was cool but not chilly, and shouldered the doors open.

***

HE MADE THE CASTLE HIS home very quickly after that, establishing with the townsfolk that he was indeed a travelling Lord that had inherited the property.  Many wagonloads of items were purchased from town, creating a flourishing economy and thankful merchants.  He explained that he couldn\'t come out into sunlight due to a rare and debilitating medical condition that caused him to burn quite rapidly.  The close truth to his actual condition was easier to manage as a result, for businesses were eager to stay open for him after sundown by appointment.  Oddly, many of the businesses remained open after sundown for a few hours extra in any case - opening later than normal in the morning.  It was as though the entire town had adjusted for him after a single month.

It was the norm to host a party when settling into society such as the one Ben had chosen.  He\'d received a few visitors at his door (and almost all thought about but didn\'t comment on the shame of the dark ashen smear on his front step), but turned them away with the declaration that they would be invited in once he got the manor in order.

There was some talk, of course, of the fact he had no servants.  Such a thing would prove difficult unless they knew what he was.  Difficult, but not impossible.  Lazarus had kept young men as servants and donors, but had also chosen to kill those that reacted badly.  Ben didn\'t want to murder any young men or women within the township.  It would be a bad choice, he felt.

Eventually, after five weeks had passed since his tumultuous \'inheritance\' of the castle manor, he sent out invitations to those families who owned business or property in the area.  He would be hosting a ball this Friday night.  With catering by a couple of businesses in nearby towns, and decorators running rampant for the two nights beforehand, the dining hall, kitchen and ballroom were ready to receive over a hundred guests.

[Existentially Odd]

The Galvin family, as with everyone in the region, had been invited to the ball.  Unlike most of them, however, they weren\'t keen to go - well, the elder Galvins weren\'t.  Their nineteen year old son, Kerr, was not of the same mindset at all, however.

Everyone in the area was going - all the women he\'d dallied with (though he hadn\'t really misbehaved himself since he turned old enough to look suspicious visiting ladies with messages from his mam around three years ago), the boys he\'d grown up with, the men he\'d worked beside.  He was keen to meet new people, too, because he\'d heard that the invitation had extended to the next county and the prospect of new connections had the teenaged man drooling.

Besides, who didn\'t love a party?

Begrudgingly, Donahue Galvin responded that the three of them would be in attendance and sent the response back with one of the farm hands, while he set off to town to purchase some new clothes with his family. Bridget twittered the whole ride about not knowing what was fashionable and worrying that everything would already have been bought, while her husband griped about all the work he should have been doing and having no time to waste, riding about and getting fancy clothes, but Kerr ignored them.

Events this big came along only every... well, he could never remember one coming along!  He\'d certainly never seen his wealthy father willing to fork out any of his considerable savings in the name of making an impression before, Kerr had always got by on home-made everything.  He could barely contain his excitement at the thought of going to an actual shop and choosing a suit to wear, and his mother must have told him to sit still at least twenty times because he was jostling the buggy by the time they pulled up outside the clothing emporium.

Once inside, Kerr wandered off on his own as his parents blustered and complained at the sales staff, his brown eyes wide with wonder as he touched the materials of suits and dresses, the likes of which he\'d never dreamed he\'d wear.  By the time the staff had satisfied his mother with a maroon-coloured dress (she looked lovely in it, despite her protestations that it was too tight across her bosom, too frothy in the skirt) and his father in a dark grey suit and matching maroon cravat, Kerr knew exactly what he wanted to be outfitted in and told them so.

Although it took quite a lot of persuading on his part - a lot of which had to do with him lying about needing to be presented at his best due to finding a potential bride at the function in two nights\' time - Kerr eventually walked out with his heart\'s desire.  The box sat upon his knees the whole way back home and he couldn\'t help patting it every now and then, his smile broad as he imagined himself dressed stylishly in the full black, single breasted frock coat to his knees, the grey trousers beneath and a white dress shirt with a flat, high collar that covered his thick neck and sat just beneath his square jaw. It has a little bit of frothy material of its own, along the buttons of the shirt, though they wouldn\'t be seen when the coat was kept buttoned up (as it was meant to be).

In a separate box by his feet sat a black top hat and a new pair of shiny, pointed-toed boots with low heels.  His mother had just about strained herself looking up at him in the boots and tried to talk him out of them but, thankfully, they\'d been the only pair big enough to fit his generously-sized feet.  It had been the one time his excessive height had made him feel lucky, rather than freakish (he towered over both his parents and most people found it difficult to believe he even belonged to them, unless they got a good look at his father\'s nose or saw his mother smile).

Time seemed to go very slowly for Kerr once he was at home with his new purchases hanging in his wardrobe.  Every time he entered his room, he couldn\'t refrain from touching them, wearing the boots any time he was indoors because he claimed he wanted them to be comfortable enough to dance in, standing in front of his looking glass in half hour bursts, trying to find just the right angle at which to position his hat atop the short brown curls that waywardly covered his head (locks pressed down over his forehead or all brushed back tidily?  He couldn\'t decide!).

He finished work early on Friday, much to his father\'s disgust, in order to give himself time to bathe and be properly presented.  He was ready early, his stomach filled with butterflies enough that he could barely get his dinner of fish and potato slivers down - also because he was afraid of tainting his beautiful clothes with anything.  When his father rose form the table and announced that they would all look their shiniest ever before God this night, Kerr was thoroughly dismayed.

"God?" he queried, his voice sounding somewhat strangled.

"Yes, God," his father answered gruffly, pausing to look at his fancily dressed son sternly.  "It\'s Friday eve.  We go to church first."

"We can\'t miss mass just this once?" Kerr beseeched, horrified at the thought they wouldn\'t arrive with everyone - the service went for nearly an hour and though the church was not far beyond the castle (for the Galvin property was only a half hour\'s ride from the site of the party), they would still arrive nearly an hour after everything at the manor had got underway.

"It\'s Friday night," Bridget intoned sternly, frowning at her son as if he\'d just sprouted another head.  He knew very well that Friday night, Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning were for God; party or no, they wouldn\'t turn their backs on their Lord unless their bodies were broken or they were dead.  And even then, she hoped that they\'d be in His everlasting arms.

Kerr tried bargaining, asking if they could go and he could just ride his horse straight to the castle, but he quickly saw that there was no way he was going to win this argument and his heart sank.  He had never been bitter about living with his parents, working with them on their property, not having a boisterous life of his own but in that moment his chest burned with resentment of them and he was not a happy attendee at church that evening.

Apart from the fact that he believed he would have lost the magic of the entrance - where everyone was rolling up to the castle, looking divine in their outfits and shimmering with excitement at what the night held - Kerr was also embarrassed to be arriving at such a special function late.  Surely the host wouldn\'t look kindly upon the Galvins arriving on their own schedule, not his?  He was worried about making a bad impression on someone who\'d offered to shine a brilliant light upon his previously drab existence, yet his parents didn\'t even care.

The best he could hope for, he decided as his parents\' buggy made its way up the driveway, behind the five or so others that had chosen God over a timely arrival at the ball, was that the Lord would not notice.  Hopefully, the party would be in full swing and they could just sidle in like they\'d been there an hour already. He could only dream, he decided as he miserably helped his mother down from the buggy and walked towards the impressive sight of the castle behind his arm-linked parents.

[Trillian]

There was a greeter at the door whom Ben hired to make the announcements of each arrival.  The party was indeed in full swing by the time the Galvins arrived, but Ben had noted a fifth of his guests had arrived late.  The ball, however, was planned on continuing well into the wee hours of the morning, and would only end an hour before daylight if there were still attendees.

Music was played by a quintet, who delighted with their precisely timed movements.  Classical pieces were mostly played, but there were also a few modern waltzes and foxtrots that Ben knew and had hired musicians who\'d recently been to London and knew of the latest tunes.

He\'d declined to ask any of the single ladies to dance, though ensured that none went without a dancing partner by arranging introductions.  He was more interested in meeting the townsfolk and forming connections, always in the back of his mind seeking a soul that would interest him.  It surprised him, to discover that the townsfolk here were a great deal more upfront with their curiosity than those of the bigger cities.  They found, after having some mild chatter, their courage allowed them to ask about his medical condition against the sunlight, and also was that why his eyes were so pale?  He answered yes each time, they were connected.  They seemed to believe he was almost blind, rather than possessing the superior vision he really had, and he wasn\'t about to correct them.

More announcements were made of arriving guests and Ben positioned himself where he could greet them all once they stepped further into the hall.  Conversations were mostly kept short, for there was a stream of late arrivals.

When the Galvins were called out, Ben barely had time to notice.  He spared a look between the heads of the enthusiastic couple he\'d had the misfortune to entertain, and only after ten minutes did he manage to extract himself politely from the conversation in order to meet his final guests.  The Galvins hadn\'t been the last through the door, but they\'d not yet been met.

Ben couldn\'t recall the faces of the couple, though he remembered their names upon arrival.  The only one he did remember was a very tall young man with them, dressed in a fashion very similar to Ben\'s own (save the colouring), who he supposed was their eldest.

With a very quick perusal of the ballroom floor and seeing nobody fitting Kerr Galvin\'s description, he moved to the dining hall where there was a buffet spread, finding a number of his guests milling about discussing the quality of the food.  He spied Kerr in the corner flirting with one of the wait staff.  It was easy to see the flirtation with the coy smiles and whispered titters.  Not wishing to interrupt but also wanting to make his connections, Ben approached the pair, frightening off the woman who saw her employer coming and she dashed into the kitchens to finish clearing the platter and then to refresh it with more drinks.

"Mister Kerr Galvin," Ben said as he was a few metres away, holding out his hand for the shaking.  Their ages looked much the same but Kerr seemed older, he supposed, which meant this young gent was somewhere in his early twenties.  Ben had been eighteen when sired, which meant Kerr might think himself elder.  At least the title of Lord would give Ben the respect he was due - if not for being an elder.  "I\'m master of the house, Lord Ben Samson, but if you could refer to me by my first name, if you please, or Mr Samson, if you\'re uncomfortable with such casual greeting."  The announcement slid off his tongue easily, for he\'d repeated it so many times tonight.  It was going through the motions, for Ben.  Sometimes he wished someone would respond quite rudely, for it would interest him.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr shook the Lord\'s hand heartily, his smile huge and his deep brown eyes dazzled.  His hat had been taken by someone, along with his gloves, so he was quite taken by the coolness of the man\'s touch and the quality of the skin against his, and held on much longer than was polite in his fascination.

"Ben, call me Kerr," he enthused, looking down at where their hands were still connected between them.  "My goodness you have soft hands, they\'re like a lady\'s hands, do you use lanolin to get them like that?  Sorry about mine," he apologised insincerely, dropping Ben\'s hand at last and looking into his unusual eyes.  "This is a lovely ball you\'re having, I\'ve never been to a ball before, thank you so much for inviting us, the food is wonderful!"

The wine was pretty damn good, too, for Kerr had snuck three glasses while his parents mingled - and he\'d been trying to coax a fourth out of the wait girl when Ben had interrupted - and it would be hard to tell whether it was the added oomph of alcohol or his youthful excitement at being included in such a magical evening that had his mouth running faster than a rabbit from a fox, and his cheeks flushed pink with enthusiasm.

[Trillian]

Ben watched with a placid fascination as his hand was shaken and then caressed, let go of, all the while with the other young man\'s mouth motoring without pause.

He smiled at the end, deciding the youth didn\'t wish to insult him with reference to the woman\'s hands.  In contrast, Ben had quite liked the calloused hard-working hands of the other, who obviously worked a farm - for Ben could smell a mixture of lively scents on him beneath the soap and water he\'d bathed in before coming here (including the purchased scent he\'d doused on himself).

"I\'m glad you approve," Ben said once Kerr finished.  Ben approved of the other\'s enthusiasm also, and his inability to be socially appropriate.  So far he was the most interesting person Ben had met so far.  His desire to meet the parents vanished for the moment.  "I went with the caterer\'s advice, having very little understanding of a fine diner\'s palate, myself."  It had been a long time since he\'d tasted food.  "Were you asking the young woman about the food?" he gestured at the door where the wait staff woman had disappeared through, thinking that Kerr had been more interested in her, personally.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr leaned forward, a cheeky grin on his face, attempting to be discreet by whispering in his host\'s ear what he\'d really been after from the girl.  Unfortunately, he was unable to correctly judge the amount of alcohol in his system (and he hadn\'t bothered trying the food yet, he\'d just had the wine at mass and three here on an excited stomach that had been fed only a small amount of dinner a couple of hours before) and he managed to fall over his own feet, somehow, landing with his hands on Ben\'s chest to steady him.

"No, I was after- oops!  Oh, sorry about that, clumsy me, I uh... wow you\'re hard, how\'d you get that hard when y\'re a Lord, I didn\'t think Lords ever worked hard enough to break a sweat let alone get some muscle into \'em!" he giggled, getting himself (largely with Ben\'s help, no doubt) back onto his own feet.  Once he was upright he looked into the Lord\'s face and paled as he realised he\'d just insulted his host.  "Ah, shit, I\'m sorry about that!" he apologised, succeeding only in looking even more panicked as he realised he\'d sworn at a Lord.  "Oh!"

Kerr pressed his lips together to stop his stupid mouth working and cowered slightly, expecting Ben was about to roar at him and kick him out of the party he felt like he\'d only just begun to enjoy.

[Trillian]

It was second nature for Ben to do a brief mental sweep of Kerr\'s intentions when he was stumbled into.  His \'fight or flight\' instinct took over, even though he wasn\'t threatened by the mortal, he simply wasn\'t used to being touched so forcefully.  As a result, he gleaned a muddled mess of thoughts; mostly about wanting more wine (even though the young man had obviously had enough), and his surprise at finding Ben so solid.  It amused Ben to hear Kerr\'s thoughts echoed verbally.  His expression didn\'t much change, however, even as he helped the mortal back on his feet and saw the other\'s reaction change.

"No need to apologise, for your words are true enough," Ben said, his hand still on Kerr\'s elbow in order to keep him steady.  "I have yet to meet another nobleman who dirties his hands on more than dusty books."

He smiled winningly.

"Would you care for a tour of the castle?  We can start with the wine cellar, if you like," he bribed indelicately.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr relaxed by degrees as he was told not to apologise, sensing sincerity in the nobleman and more than a little thankful for it.  He straightened out of his cower quickly and his eyes widened with wonderment as he was offered a tour of the castle - a personal tour by the sound of it!

He had no idea why he would be offered such a thing and had a passing thought that it was because he was actually going to get into trouble for putting his hands all over the lord (maybe even thrown out on his ass for being so crass), but he was drunk enough to dismiss the momentary lapse of his ebullient positivity.  He read good intentions in that smile, after all, and the idea that he might snag another taste of something in the wine cellar was enough to entirely mute any misgivings that might be trying to make themselves known in his slushy brain.

Kerr grinned back, too innocent to consider the fact that it was entirely inappropriate for the lord of the manor and the host of such a spectacular party to take time away from his guests to escort one insignificant boy about his premises.  He was accordingly flattered by the gesture, though.

"I\'d love one!" the boy enthused, barely noticing that he was being steered by the elbow as the two began to walk, his gaze glued adoringly to his host.  "I\'ve always wondered what the inside of this place looked like, ever since I was a boy, I\'d stare at it every time we went to church and I always imagined that it had a dungeon with something really nasty inside it, not a dragon though, that would be too boring, I was thinking maybe a troll or something really small and hairy - it used to give me nightmares when I was really little, you know how you do that?  You scare yourself stupid thinking there\'s something nasty with sharp teeth under your bed at night then you call your da and he grumbles that y\'re being stupid and..."

His blather was incessant and in amongst his relayings of his childhood fears that something destructive lived in this castle, Kerr also managed to compliment the colour of Ben\'s eyes, ask him where he\'d come from, how much money he had, where he kept it and pass a kind comment on just about every feature of the castle as he passed it.  His words would only stop when he came to a stop and he had cause to look around himself in wonder.  "Ooh, is this the cellar?"

[Trillian]

Ben wasn\'t sure if he should be impressed at the fact Kerr had sensed an evil entity at the castle (for there certainly had been a nasty menace here before Ben had dispatched it and taken over), or amused by the ironic truthfulness behind Kerr\'s paranoia.  He believed the former was more likely, for humans did seem to have a sixth sense to danger.  Kerr\'s sense had left him when he\'d had extra wine, but dulling him down and releasing any inhibitions the lad might\'ve felt due to the wine loosening his tongue proved great entertainment for the lord of the castle.

"Indeed," he replied, leaving Kerr\'s side in order to approach one of the giant casks on its side and placed a hand upon it.  "Some of the vintage had gone bad and I had to remove every single one of the kegs save this one," he declared, thinking of the creature that had lived here.  He hadn\'t seemed the wine keeping type, and Ben wondered who the former owners of this castle had been, and how long this wine had kept in this cask.  He could smell that it hadn\'t gone bad, however.  It hadn\'t been tapped, and therefore the seal had preserved it.  The other wines had assaulted Ben\'s nose even through the wooden keg.  Vinegar couldn\'t be hidden from a vampire\'s sense of smell.

Ben had bought a great deal of wine in bottles and stored them here.  They were part of the show, of course, but were also handy as an investment.  He felt a kinship to wine, for it grew more potent as it aged, much like himself.  He couldn\'t drink it, but he liked the scent of it when a bottle was uncorked.  It had been a long time since he\'d drunk from someone inebriated with a high class of alcohol.

"Do you care for a glass?  I believe the wine from this cask is well aged and of superior quality to what was being served upstairs," he said, and the wine upstairs hadn\'t been cheap, either.  There was a chiffonier a few steps away that Ben went to and opened up like an upright bar, the latticed cupboard doors windowed with glass to keep the dust out of the glasses that were stored inside.  He did this before Kerr even had a chance to reply, though Ben was certain that the young mortal would agree keenly.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr followed after Ben, mirroring his touch on the other side of the cask, looking at the thing in wonderment.  He was no cooper, making such as this would take much effort and a great deal of wood, he knew; he looked upon it and saw the hours of backbreaking and skilled work that went into making the container before he even thought of what went into it.

Ben offering a taste of wine distracted him appropriately and his hand dropped from patting the cask to watching his host get a glass for him.  "Yes, please," he breathed politely, his eyes alight at the thought he was going to get special wine.  He felt even more giddy, getting this sort of exclusive treatment and any inhibitions he\'d had were completely gone with the thought of it.

His brown eyes were large as he watched the process of the wine being poured and when it was handed to him, he paused, thinking that it would be inappropriate to gulp it.  "I like wine," he giggled reverently, sipping it as gracefully as he was able.  The taste was like the music upstairs, but on his tongue and he said as much before he greedily took another sip... and suddenly it was gone.  He frowned at the empty bottom of the glass, a pout turning down his lips before he reluctantly held the empty vessel out towards his host.  "Thank you," he said demurely, unable to stop himself from casting a longing glance at the cask beside him.

Already, the potent fruity elixir was making his head spin, but he wouldn\'t turn down another.  He\'d been very drunk once before, when he and his friends had snuck two bottles of whiskey from their parents\' supplies and it had been an extraordinary experience that had resulted in some very sore heads the next day.  Also a lot of vomitting that night.  He didn\'t want to reach that stage in front of such a gracious lord as Ben, but the wine was affecting him differently.  If anything, it was making him want to lay down and rest for a little while, and that couldn\'t be all that bad, could it?  He\'d be able to drink another glass if it was offered, he was sure of it.

His expression turned hopeful, his gaze eagerly centred on Ben\'s hands and what he did with that (as it had turned out) very small glass.

[Trillian]

The wine was thick and heady, potent both in flavour and alcohol, considering how long it had rested for, stewing.  Ben almost idealised that he could get drunk on it through smell alone, never mind drinking it from an intoxicated human\'s blood - but that would hardly be the fun he was hoping for.

Kerr got his second glass, but Ben waited with a little bit of trivial conversation before deciding to offer him a third and last one.  The youth was a hefty size, and Ben didn\'t want to go to any effort to plant the seed of forgetfulness into him.

Upstairs he could just hear the strains of music, and knew he\'d been gone a little longer than was appropriate.  He figured he had another half hour before guests started asking after him - he\'d greeted everyone personally after all, so it was their turn to mingle with each other.

Ben placed a steely hand on Kerr\'s arm in order to steer him towards a wooden bench chained to the far wall.

"Let us sit," he said softly, as one would speak to a tired child.  He didn\'t want Kerr to sleep just yet, but if he slept afterward, that was okay too.  All the easier to plant the \'dream\' seed, with.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr was unsteady in his drunkenness by now, relying on Ben to guide him to where he wanted him, giggling softly to himself when he sat and the room kept spinning anyway.

"You\'re very nice," he slurred, grinning dopily at Ben, his hand resting on the lord\'s thigh.  "I have no idea how\'m gonna\' sober up before my parents want me!" he snorted laughter.  "They\'re prolly already lookin\' f\'me, they didn\'t even wanna\' come t\'night," he imparted guilelessly.

It was his greatest fear, that his parents would want to leave this magical party early and something he wasn\'t ready to deal with.  In fact, it made him very sad and he pouted at Ben.  "I don\' wanna\' go home yet.  I don\'t want this to end," he sighed dramatically.  He hadn\'t even got to dance yet!

[Trillian]

Ben sat close to him, twisted so that he was mostly facing Kerr\'s side.  He would\'ve sat with his arm around the youth\'s shoulders, except Kerr was taller than him.  Something physical in Ben tingled as Kerr\'s warm hand was placed upon his thigh.  Interesting, for not many could elicit a sexual response from him with such innocent gestures.

"You\'re fairly old to still be living with your parents," Ben said softly, moving forward so that he was smelling Kerr\'s neck, his nose and lips brushing the flesh there, teasing himself with the pulse that drew him so strongly.  Because of his movement, Kerr\'s hand was now mostly upon his inner thigh.  Ben\'s own hand found Kerr\'s waist, his other toying with Kerr\'s hair.

[Existentially Odd]

"Mmm, nineteen," Kerr agreed and then the feeling of Ben pulling him close registered and his eyes fell closed as his neck was nuzzled.  He tilted his head the other way, to give Ben better access.  "But I... don\'t wanna\' settle down with anyone yet," he murmured, and then moaned.

In his drunken state, none of this seemed particularly odd, to Kerr.  He had a friend, named John, that he would play with in such a manner, every now and then.  There was no kissing involved, they\'d never even talked about what went on between them, but when they were boys of twelve, one night they\'d had a sleepover and somehow ended up in the same bed, helping one another masturbate.

Wordlessly they\'d separated, but every time after that they got together, it happened.  The last time Kerr had got this drunk (at fifteen years of age), in fact, John had been there and when the rest of the boys had passed out, he and John had snuck away from the group.  Alcohol had upped the ante for them that night, for they\'d used their mouths on one another instead of just hands.

Having Ben kiss at his throat while he was drunk was therefore nothing new to Kerr, but the urge to kiss him back was.  He and John had never kissed; John was quite ugly and Kerr believed that the main reason he\'d instigated their... intimacy... had been because no girl had looked twice at him.  His mouth had been serviceable, the one time he\'d used it on Kerr, but it gave him doubts John would ever find happiness with anyone, man or woman.

Ben wasn\'t ugly, though.  He had pretty eyes and lovely lips and he\'d been very generous in sharing his special wine with him, Kerr thought it only logical that he give back in some way.  His fingers twitched where they lay upon his host\'s thigh, his wrist turning so that he could move his hand down and lightly brush the backs of his fingers back and forth across the bulge of Ben\'s crotch.  Since it was part of a game he\'d played a couple of times before, he knew talking was against the rules, but noises weren\'t and his sighed, pressing against Ben\'s lips eagerly.

[Trillian]

The reaction he received was extremely surprising, though not unpleasant and certainly not unwanted.  Ben shifted against that hand, wanting more pressure there even as he began kissing the drunken mortal back.  He\'d been after a titillating experience of an entirely different kind, but it seemed he would be getting a great deal more than that.

The sighs excited him unexpectedly, and he found himself desiring a great deal more of Kerr than he\'d been ready for.  It inspired him, to finally want someone so passionately.  He supposed it was because of the amusing conversation Kerr had made while on the tour towards this place, the anticipation of what Ben was planning, and then the delightful reaction before Ben had even begun to drink.

Thinking of drinking now made him eager to taste the youth\'s blood.  As lovely as it was kissing him, he had a stronger urge to take this further.  Holding Kerr\'s head in place, Ben returned his attention to the mortal\'s neck while his other hand stole down and fixed Kerr\'s hand more firmly between his legs, proposing in no uncertain terms that Kerr should make his presence felt there.